Pure Blood
by CrackedCompass
Summary: Alfred and Arthur have been together for years, moving from city to city and calling it their home. However, they're not innocent: they're monsters, they're bloodthirsty vampires who will kill anyone in their way. They move to New York city only to find out that it is occupied by a powerful German werewolf family and now they must destroy the mutts who occupy their new home.
1. Chapter 1

A scream echoed through the dark alleyways, however, everyone who heard was too scared to leave their beds, knowing the horror that awaited them outside their doors. Her footsteps echoed as she ran as fast as she could, her pretty eyes were wide with terror, she looked around desperately for someone who could help her, she knew that it was a bad idea to stay out late in London, especially with what had been happening to local prostitutes lately, but she just had to make money tonight, and now it may cost her life. Blood still poured from the ugly wound on her shoulder, she had barely managed to get out of the grip of the monster, but she knew that it wasn't far behind her; she had to get away, now.  
She gasped when she heard low growling from behind her, despite her better judgement, she turned around. However she didn't see the monster that attacked her, she saw a man standing a couple of metres behind her, wearing a long black cape and a top hat, a proper gentleman.

"S-sir!" She gasped as she turned around and limped towards the gentleman, pressing her hand to her wound, desperate to keep the blood from further staining her long dress. "Please, sir; you have to help me!"

"You know it's bad for young ladies like yourself to be out at this hour… this is the hunting hour, I am sure you're aware of that…" The gentleman explained in a refined accent, his mouth curving into a wide and hungry smile as he spoke.

The girl stuttered as she began to step back, however, before she could step back far enough; her back collided with a cold, but soft figure. She froze as she saw two gloved head reach around her, before grabbing her around the shoulders, covering her mouth; effectively silencing her.

She tilted her head back, if she was going to die; she wanted to see the face of the one who did it. It was the monster, those same black eyes with bright blue pupils that she had seen before she was attacked, he had come to finish her off. She tried to scream and fight her way out of his grip, however, the pain from the wound on her shoulder held her back, as well as the inhuman strength of her captor.

"Do you want to go first, darling?" The monster asked the gentleman, in an American accent.

"Ohh~" The gentleman cooed as he removed his top hat, shocking the girl with the same black eyes as the monster, but his pupils were a deep glowing green, "you're too kind…" This time, as the gentleman spoke, sharp fangs became visible and sent a wave of fear down the girl's spine. The gentleman smiled at the girl, baring his sharp fangs, until suddenly he gripped her hair and pulled her hair back, before sinking those fangs into her neck.  
She screamed into the monsters hand as the gentleman attacked her neck with his fangs, she could feel the blood pour into his mouth and her life drain away as he violently bit into her; she slowly lost the ability to fight back. The loss of blood and the excruciating pain of his bite made her weak, and she eventually lost her ability to scream, or even think clearly as she drifted into unconsciousness.

Arthur knew that he had done his job when the girl's body went limp; he pulled himself away from her, and let her body go limp in Alfred's arms. Satisfied with his job, Arthur stepped back, feeling her blood drip from his lips and run down his chin and neck, ruining his white corsage.  
He released a deep breath as he felt the blood run down his throat and send tingles through his hands, the blood-rush of power gave Arthur the sense that he was flying. His thirst for human blood had been satisfied.

"Enjoy yourself?" Alfred asked.

"Heh…" Arthur chuckled, "have your fun; we'll blame this one on good old Jack the Ripper, eh?"

"Indeed," Alfred replied as he dragged the girl's body into a dark corner of the alleyway, before lying her down, "If I make this messy, they're going to think that the Ripper did this to her. Knowing that loon, he'll take the blame happily. They found another one recently, so he is active."

"Was it one of ours?" Arthur asked.

"No. Our last meal was a man about a week ago, they haven't found him, yet," Alfred replied, "now please, let me enjoy my meal…"

Alfred wasn't as poised and controlled as Arthur, when he eats he becomes wild beast. Arthur likened Alfred's eating habits to a werewolf, he would growl, throw around the body, destroy it and leave a terrible mess, and Arthur found it unbelievable that Alfred was a vampire. By the time the American had finished with her, the poor girls body was hardly recognisable which was a shame, because Arthur though that she had a pretty face.

Hundreds of years passed after that night, and hundreds of more lives followed hers, Alfred and Arthur moved all over the world, watching civilisations rise and fall before them. They fought in the wars; making a meal of enemy soldiers, as well as retired to the shadows, feasting on the patrons of the nightlife of wherever they lived.  
They were happy with their existence, despite the chaos they created, they lived relatively peacefully domestically and anyone who visited wouldn't think twice about what lovely people Alfred and Arthur were, but that was only because they wanted them to think that way. As soon as the sun went down, the monsters within Alfred and Arthur came out to hunt, their craving for fresh blood overcame any sense of logic, and they'd attack anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross their paths.

They lived all over the world, swapping locations every couple of decades to avoid suspicion, but as technology advanced, they became more careful, however, the monsters within them craved more blood as their power grew. Alfred became stronger and faster than normal, whilst Arthur learned that he had more than charm and charisma, he could have anyone do anything he wanted; even if it was to let him bite them. They were evolving as vampires as well as evolving as partners. And they finally took their ultimate forms as vampires, and ultimate monsters.  
Of course, they were not alone, if a home they had chosen happened to be in the territory of another supernatural creature, they would take that territory from them with force. For instance, they were living in Russia for some time, and they happened to be living in the same city as a werewolf, who had marked that area as his territory, when he confronted them about it and asked them to leave: they killed him… they were not afraid of anyone else, and they did not care about who they had to hurt in order to get what they wanted. They knew that they were powerful, and no one could stand in their way…

Their new location was New York, ironically; it was where they first met centuries ago, they wanted to return to this place and call it their home for an amount of time. However, as soon as they stepped out of the taxi before their new home, Arthur cringed so hard he nearly fell over.

"Arth—oh my _god!"_ Alfred hissed, getting a whiff of the air and recognising the scent that made any vampires blood boil.

"Werewolves…" Arthur hissed.

"Heh…" Alfred chuckled as he covered his nose with his sleeve, "looks like we're going to have to take another territory…"

Arthur grimaced as the scent rocked him to his very core, the scent of werewolves slapped him across the face, enraging him enough to go into a frenzy, "I'm looking forward to that… we will exterminate the werewolves of New York city…"


	2. Chapter 2

_"AAAARRRHHHH!"_ Arthur roared as he furiously rubbed his wet hair with the towel, the stench of werewolf irritating his nostrils; itching his primal instincts. "I went outside for an hour, _an hour,_ and this is my third shower, and I can still smell fucking mutts!"

"Aww…" Alfred cooed, taking little interest in his partner's irritation and continued to channel surf as he laid over the couch.

"Don't patronise me! You're just lucky that you're not as sensitive as me!" Arthur hissed before throwing his wet towel over Alfred's head before pulling up his pants. "I am never leaving this apartment again without a hazmat suit!"

"You know… we could just _kill them,_ and then the scent will go away _…_ " Alfred pointed out, as he slowly turned his head, revealing one vibrant blue eye that glowed under the darkness of the towel. The look in Alfred's eye intrigued Arthur, tempting him to the idea of the hunt. "We've hunted wolf before…"

"Oh, we will… we just need to find them…" Arthur growled, "With them gone we can claim this territory as our own."

"We could consult a witch," Alfred pointed out.

"But you can't sense witches," Arthur pointed out, until he grimaced when he realised what Alfred was implying: Alfred cannot sense witches, but Arthur can… "No."

"Come on… we need a witch…" Alfred pointed out as he turned onto his knees, facing Arthur from the other side of the couch; he spread his arms across the couch, as though he was inviting Arthur in for a hug. "You're the only one who can do it."

"Urhh…" Arthur growled, baring his fangs with irritation. Internally Arthur cursed at his supernatural gifts, dreading his ability to sense the presence of other inhuman beings. Of course, he could place others into a trance, and bend their will to his command, he was not complaining about that power at all…

"It will be worth it…" Alfred promised as he rose from the couch and walked towards Arthur, whose senses were still running wild from the scent of primal enemies. Alfred could smell the presence of werewolves as well; however, the scent wasn't bothering him nearly as much as it bothered Arthur. In fact, he was angrier at what those _mutts_ were doing to Arthur; he hated seeing his love writhe uncontrollably from the irritation of the scent. Alfred smiled as he cupped Arthur's face with his hands, allowing Alfred to stare into Arthur's poisonous green eyes, which illuminated from under Alfred's shadow, "If you find them, I'll hunt them for you…"

"Oh, aren't you a darling?!" Arthur chuckled as he pushed himself out of Alfred's grip, "you could use a shower yourself; you smell just as bad!"

"I will…" Alfred muttered, "But I'm hungry…"

Arthur frowned at Alfred, "it's too dangerous to go outside right now, we need a witch to tell us how many wolves are here, and how powerful they are."

"No matter how many there are, we can take them…" Alfred promised.

Arthur couldn't help but smile, purposely baring his fangs at his partner; as they were a symbol their power, together: the vampires felt unstoppable.

They hated the idea of passing a night of hunting, however, too much was at risk for the vampires and so, hunting would be too dangerous. They spent a week couped up in their apartment as Arthur couldn't stand the werewolf stench outside and they hadn't assessed the risk of New York City: they didn't know whether it was a hunting ground for a pack, or the territory of a lone wolf.

Eventually Alfred dragged Arthur out of the apartment, they knew that they couldn't survive on each other's blood forever, they needed a human, and soon.  
Arthur kept his thick red scarf over his mouth and nose, using the chilly New York weather as his excuse to block out the stench, Arthur widened closed his eyes but opened his mind. Watching the world plunge into black, only for the outlines of the streets and the people within them to turn into a vibrant green. His mind searched through the nearby streets, he diligently searched through every building, and however, he could only see the green outlines of humans. Alfred walked him through every street, giving Arthur the chance to mentally scan the area around them.

"Not here…" Arthur mumbled as he tightened his grip on Alfred's hand, telling him to keep moving.

They had begun their journey in the morning, and it wasn't until the late afternoon when Arthur stopped moving and squeezed Alfred's hand, Arthur tightened his eyes and mentally searched the small antiques shop from across the road, where he watched a figure whose outline was in purple, wander around the room behind the shop. Arthur lifted his free arm and pointed across the road and towards the shop.

"There?" Alfred asked.

"There," Arthur repeated.

Immediately, Alfred and Arthur ran across the road and into the quiet shop, startling the clerk.  
The shop was empty, however, was completely full with old Chinese antiques, from furniture and vases to detailed artwork.

"Can I help you?" the young man asked from behind the counter, startled by the vampire's strong approach, blissfully unaware of the danger that loomed before him.

"We believe you have someone standing behind there that can help us…" Arthur explained, internally fighting away the urge to feed off of the innocent clerk; as Arthur and Alfred had starved themselves of human blood. Arthur pointed past the clerk and to the hanging beads that separated the store from the back room.

"Urhh…" The young man stuttered, growing uncomfortable by the vampires intense stares, clueless as to what was happening.

"Let them in!" A voice announced from the back room of the antique shop, "I've been waiting for them."  
The young man glanced down at the floor, before looking back up at Alfred and Arthur, somewhat questioning his perception of them, Arthur could tell that the young man had figured out that something was different about them…

Immediately Alfred and Arthur were hit with the scent of herbal teas as well as tobacco, a red light illuminated the small room, where sitting in the middle in on a small table was a figure with dark ebony hair and red robes. The figure opened his narrow eyes to reveal a thick line of red underneath his waterline, the witch smiled as he waved his hand towards the two chairs that sat before his table.

"It took you two long enough to find me…" the witch chuckled as Alfred and Arthur took their seats before him, "you shall only refer to me as Yao…"

"We understand… we are Alfred and Arthur…" Arthur explained.

"Now, I'm sure that you understand that I do not offer my services for free…" Yao explained. Luckily, Arthur had dealt with witches before, and knew that they wanted from vampires, Arthur took a tiny vile with a red substance pooling at the bottom. "Vampire blood, and before you ask: it is pure, because it is my own. I know you lot like to use vampire blood for your hexes and potions, so I assure you that this will come in handy."

"Are you both of pure blood?" Yao asked, crossing his fingers.

"Yes," Alfred answered, "we were both born as vampires."

"Interesting…" Yao pointed out.

"Enough about us, if you knew we were coming, you'd surely know _why,"_ Arthur explained.

"The werewolves, yes," Yao replied as a smile crossed his thin lips, "they're some of my very loyal customers… In fact, they were here just yesterday, asking about you…"

"And what did you tell them?" Alfred asked, being sure to flash his fangs in the corners of his mouth, reminding the witch of the threat that sat before him.

"I told them what I knew: that there are two of you, you're very old and experienced…" Yao explained, "Confident…"

"Fine then, what can you tell us about them?" Arthur asked.

"The Beilschmidt brothers are the dominant wolves of the city…" Yao began, "Two brothers who came here from Germany some time during the 70's and quickly took over the established werewolf pack of the city. They _really do not like vampires…"_

"How much?" Alfred asked.

Yao smiled, as though he was overjoyed that Alfred had asked that question, "New York City has been a vampire-free zone for decades."

"That's not possible," Arthur hissed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Then how come the werewolf scent is so strong in this city? Because there are no vampires to combat the scent," Yao pointed out, "they hunt down every vampire that comes even near their territory; they take it very personally when a vampire chooses to challenge them: even indirectly. I've never seen a vampire last more than a month here… and I doubt that you two will last either."

"We've hunted wolves before," Alfred hissed, "We know how to handle a bunch of mutts."

"Very powerful mutts…" Yao replied calmly, "they're coming after you, for them: the hunt has already begun. If you choose to remain here, it would be wise for you to watch yourselves, and watch over each other…"


	3. Chapter 3

"Who does he think we are?!" Alfred hissed, tightening his grip on Arthur's hand, as he growled in irritation from the witch's words, "He thinks we can't handle a bunch of wolves."

Arthur glanced at Alfred as they walked down the street, their path illuminated by the bright streetlights and fluorescent signs from the shops that lined the street underneath the dark night sky and they neared their apartment complex. "There, there…" Arthur cooed as he ran his hand through Alfred's hair, "he doesn't know what we're capable of; he'll come to understand that as soon as we drive those mutts out of the city."

"They hate vampires!?"Alfred chuckled confidently, "Hell, we'll make them _fear_ vampires!"  
Arthur laughed along with him the moment of intimacy momentarily making him forget about the irritation in his senses, induced by the overwhelming scent of werewolves. Arthur walked up the steps to their apartment complex and suddenly froze, as the fresh scent of werewolves punched him in the face, even Alfred recoiled in shock, as he sensed the change in the air.

"You sense it too?" Arthur asked as he and Alfred glanced at each other.

"Their hunt has begun," Alfred whispered, imitating the witch. Arthur glanced at Alfred with worried eyes, neither of them anticipated being openly attacked so quickly, they had barely begun to make a plan. They didn't know much about the wolves, they barely knew how many there were and they knew how long they've held this territory. The fact that bothered Alfred and Arthur the most was how hard the wolves had defended their territory against vampires, Arthur could hardly believe it, there was no way those _mutts_ could kill enough vampires to keep the city vampire free!

"Not already, surely, they can't have already tracked us…" Arthur gasped, "We haven't eaten properly in weeks! We cannot fight them now!"

"Well, we sure as hell aren't making a truce with them!" Alfred hissed as he began to pull Arthur up the stairs, getting closer to their apartment on the fifth level.

"Alfred, now you're being stupid, we cannot fight them!" Arthur exclaimed as he pulled against his partner's grip, only for Alfred to tug him forward, demonstrating what strength he had left. "We haven't eaten, we don't know if we're strong enough!"

Alfred knew that Arthur was right; they had only been feeding off of each other while they were in hiding. Vampire blood is not strong enough to sustain a vampire's power; they need the vitamins and antibodies that are only found in human blood in order to reenergize.  
However, Alfred couldn't fight off his primal instinct to fight for his territory and to kill all who oppose him: it was just the way that he was: too proud for his own good.

"Hey!" a voice cried as a figure ran down the stairs, blocking the vampire's way, "you two live in the place on level five? Um… Five-A?"  
The figure was a young human, a blonde with light fluffy hair and rounded glasses; he wore grey track-pants and a red hoodie with a white maple leaf printed on his chest. He blocked the stairway with his body, preventing Alfred and Arthur from getting any further up, with a terrified look in his eyes.

"Yes," Alfred replied as he attempted to pass the Canadian, only to be blocked by his shoulder.

"I'm Matt; I live across from you, I saw two men break into your apartment!"

"Oh!" Arthur gasped, pretending to be surprised.  
Alfred looked at Arthur weirdly, wondering why he was pretending to be helpless, and then he realised: they haven't eaten yet, and this young man has presented himself before them… as though it was an invitation.

"Are you serious?!" Alfred asked, playing along with Arthur's act, "maybe if you come with us we can—"

"I've called the police," Matt explained, striking a dash through Alfred and Arthurs plan to attack him in darkness, they wouldn't have enough time to feed and then hide the body before the police would arrive. Their plans to feast on the Canadian had been foiled.

"Oh…" Arthur sighed, "thank you for that."

"No problem, just being a good neighbour!" Matt replied before the street below them illuminated with red and blue flashing lights, "Oh, here they are!"

Alfred and Arthur glanced at each other, mutually agreeing that their plans were indeed thrown out the window.  
They watched as the two police officers joined the trio on the stairs.

"We got a call about a break in?" The shorter, brunette officer asked, revealing an Italian accent.

Arthur's eyes suddenly widened as the officer continued to speak to Matthew and Alfred, something was wrong about him. He was definitely human, but he absolutely reeked of werewolf, that could only mean one thing: he's close to them. He was a human among the pack; perhaps a close friend, or even a lover: definitely someone close to the wolves.  
Arthur glanced at Alfred as a wicked smile crossed the Brit's face, revealing the darkest intentions within his eyes: they had their way to get back at those wolves. Alfred's eyes shimmered with hope when he realised this as well, after taking a closer look at the Italian, he came to understand why this young police officer was a key to their revenge.

The officers opened the door and marched in, announcing their presence, Alfred and Arthur entered the apartment after them, to see their living quarters were left as an absolute mess, their clothes from the bedroom had been ripped and scattered around the living room, their couch was ripped and table and chairs were upside down, plates were broken and the main window that overlooked the city was missing it's glass. Arthur hissed at the stench of werewolves, revolted by the wolves' assault on his home it became clear that this was a personal attack. The werewolves were sending them a message: get out, _now._

Arthur saw his chance as the other officer began to interview Matt, Arthur and Alfred led the Italian officer towards the kitchen, under the pretence that they think something may be missing.  
But before the Italian could begin asking questions, Arthur activated his power, his eyes illuminating with a powerful green, captivating the Italian.

"Name," Arthur demanded, as Alfred peered out of the kitchen, making sure that the other officer was still busy with their neighbour.

"Feliciano Vagaras…" Feliciano replied, deep in Arthur's trance. The Italians wide eyes had become blank and emotionless, as though his soul had left his body and a mindless victim had taken his place.

"Do you know any werewolves?" Arthur asked.

"I date one…" Feliciano replied; his voice was as blank and emotionless as his eyes, never changing in tone. "Ludwig Beilschmidt…"

"Beilschmidt…" Alfred gasped, "That's…"

"We've hit the jackpot…" Arthur chuckled as he tightened his mental grip over the Italian, "right at the top of the pack…"

"A werewolf dating a human, how odd…" Alfred pointed out.

"And he knows about it…" Arthur added, "Heh… the mutts are more unconventional than I thought. Now… what do we do with this young man…?"

"I dunno… wanna send a message back to his wolf?" Alfred chuckled, tugging at the collar of Feliciano's shirt, revealing a patch of his soft olive skin.

Arthur smiled, before focussing back on the Italian, "He's going to show us where the wolves are. Alfred, get a knife." Arthur waved his hands before Feliciano's face, "you're going to walk back to your wolf tonight, cut yourself along the way and smear your blood upon every lamppost you see…"

"A trail of bread crumbs…" Alfred chuckled as he slid the kitchen knife into Feliciano's pants pocket.

"You won't remember receiving these orders, nor will you remember us or this case…" Arthur continued, his fangs flashing from the corners of his smile and he leant in closer to the Italian's exposed skin. "But as soon as you see into your werewolf's eyes… you will remember: this…"  
As Arthur's fangs pierced the Italians skin, he heard him gasp from the sudden pain, but was unable to scream as Arthur felt the pure human blood run down his throat. Arthur's eyes widened as he tightened his mental and physical grip on Feliciano, despite the Italian not being capable of fighting back. He knew that Feliciano was experiencing the pain and fear of feeling his blood being stolen from him, and that drove Arthur to dig deeper, and take more…


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as he left the apartment block, his eyes were still blank and dead inside, the black jacket that Arthur had given him was covered the horrific bloodstains on his shoulders and back, from the vampire's vicious attack. He couldn't feel anything anymore, all he could think about was completing a task, he couldn't understand why he was doing it, but he couldn't deny it.  
He simply told his colleague that a friend lived nearby, and since this was their last case for the night, he should walk to see them. Of course, his colleague had little issue. Feliciano didn't know why he said that, he couldn't control himself; it was as though someone was speaking for him.  
He didn't remember anything that had happened to him, he couldn't think about where he was or what got him there.

He slowly walked down the street, and stared intensely at a lamp post, and without thinking about it, he drew out his knife and slide the blade across his hand; immune to the pain, he stumbled towards the post and smeared his blood along the dark metal, leaving a little mark.

He tried to question why he was doing those things, but he couldn't find the strength to make a stable argument.  
All he knew was that he had to walk to Ludwig's house, and smear blood on every lamppost in his path, he had to do it, and there was no fighting against that urge.

He didn't look at anyone who passed him, he ignored hecklers and continued to slice his skin and rub it on the cold metal of the lamppost, defiantly scaring off everybody who dared to stick around long enough to watch him do it.

The journey to Ludwig's house was going to take the Italian all night at this rate, but he didn't seem to care: he couldn't even comprehend the enormous distance; all he could focus on were the lampposts and the blood.

A sense of relief overcame the Italian after he smeared his bloody wrist over the lamppost in front of Ludwig's house, the grotesque wound on his hand and wrist dripped blood up the stairs to Ludwig's impressive house. He slowly began to regain his own will, he could start to think more clearly but despite this he could still not remember why he was doing those things, and suddenly, he completely forgot about his mission. His mind had been wiped of all memories of the lampposts, or the walk back to Ludwig's house from… oh god… he couldn't even remember what he was doing… Feliciano rubbed his face with his hand, unknowingly smearing it with his blood. Feliciano still felt incredibly blank, as though he was missing something important, but he didn't have the mental strength to search for it. He walked through the front hall of Ludwig's house, despite the late hour, the lights were on and he could hear the TV coming from the living room.  
Feliciano stumbled into the light of the kitchen, groaning something, completely unaware that his shirt and face were covered in blood, and the grotesque wound on his hand was leaving a trail of blood drops along the floor. Feliciano removed his black jacket and placed it on the table, as though everything was normal, which caught the attention of the man on the couch.

"Feli? What are you—"A voice asked, he couldn't even tell if it was Ludwig or Gilbert who were speaking, "OH MY GOD!"  
Feliciano's face remained blank as he looked up from the floor, only to see Ludwig jump over the couch, and run across the kitchen to him. Feliciano couldn't help but finding himself staring into Ludwig's sky blue eyes…

 _And then everything came back…_

Feliciano fell to the floor, screaming in terror as he relived the horror of those vampires holding him still as they took turns biting into his shoulders, draining him of his ability to fight back, of his ability to think. Suddenly he was hit by the pain of the bites on both of his shoulders, and of the pain of the wound on his hand and wrists, as well as the muscle aches in his legs from walking such a distance. He held his head, only spreading more blood, as he continued to scream and cry.  
Ludwig fell to the floor as his brother ran down stairs to join them, unnerved by the noise and the scent of blood, only to freeze in shock at the sight in his kitchen. Ludwig scooped the petrified Feliciano into his arms as the Italian continued to scream.

"Feli!" Ludwig cried as he held the Italian's head, wiping blood away from his eyes, "who did this to you?"

"V-vampires…" Feliciano whimpered holding onto Ludwig's shirt, his hands trembling with fear.

Ludwig looked up at Gilbert, who stood before the couple in shock… and anger. Gilbert could see Ludwig fighting the urge to shift as he lifted Feliciano off of the kitchen floor. It was then that Ludwig caught a glimpse of Feliciano's shoulder, and was absolutely horrified by the messy bite mark branded on his shoulder, which was still bleeding. Ludwig carried Feliciano past Gilbert, before the older German ran to the cupboard desperately searching for the first-aid kit.

Ludwig breathed angrily as he carried Feliciano up the stairs, becoming angrier the longer he stared at the blood staining Feliciano's skin, internally fighting the urge to shift into a wolf and rip those vampires to shreds. However, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Feliciano alone in such a terrified state, Feliciano was gripping at his shirt and whimpering, traumatised by his gruesome attack.

"I swear Feli…" Ludwig whispered as he carried Feliciano into his bedroom, laying him down on the large bed. "I'm going to destroy them…" Ludwig planted a small kiss on Feliciano's forehead as he brushed the Italians amber hair off of his forehead.  
Feliciano had quietened down after Ludwig's promised; he opened his eyes again to look at the German, only to shiver at the memories brought back after looking into his eyes.  
"It's going to be ok…"

"How is he going?" Gilbert asked, carrying the first aid kit into the bedroom.

"He's going to make it, they weren't intending to kill him… they wouldn't have let him go if they were going to do that," Ludwig explained as he watched Feliciano close his eyes.

"We sent them a message by trashing their apartment," Gilbert pointed out as he sat on the other side of the bed and opened the kit, and a cloth submerged in a bowl of steaming water. "This must be their reply."

"Then it's decided…" Ludwig replied as he began to unbutton Feliciano's shirt, dreading the idea of the vampires leaving any more wounds on Feliciano. "We've got to end them, there's no room for negotiation… how dare they, Feliciano has nothing to do with this… and yet they attacked him!"

"They must have no standards…" Gilbert hissed as he handed Ludwig the wet cloth.

Ludwig growled as he glanced at his brother, revealing his glowing blue eyes… "Then this means _war…"_


	5. Chapter 5

Using the darkness of night as their cover and the full moon as their guide, the vampire's prowled down the street, together they searched for their next meal. Men fell as they took a nightly jog, couples lost their lives as they walked home together: no one was safe from Alfred and Arthur's hunger for blood.

They'd set their eyes on a person walking far from them , and dash with their immortal speed to slam into his back, sinking their teeth into his skin, before dragging him into the darkness: the was dead before he could scream.

Alfred and Arthur bared their fangs as they smiled at each other, absolutely writhing in joy in their bonding exercise. Alfred could run faster and leap from car to car as they sat parked on the sides of the streets as Arthur ran in the middle of the road, watching Alfred leap over him. To the human eye, the vampire's would only appear and blurs as they ran by, cloaking them from any suspicious humans.  
Alfred and Arthur turned a sharp corner, prompted by the direction of the scent of the Italian's blood, as Alfred had described; it 'was a trail of breadcrumbs' that would lead the vampires directly to the werewolves' lair. Arthur's plan had worked, the bloodstains on the lampposts were getting wetter and wetter.

 _"I can smell them…"_ Arthur growled as the fresh scent of werewolves' filled his nose and tickled his senses. However, instead of irritating the British vampire, it excited him. They were ready to take the city from those wolves, and wreak havoc upon New York City and show no mercy to any human who dared to face them.

Arthur caught a glimpse of Alfred's crazed smile as the taller vampire jumped onto the ground, creating a crack in the concrete. Alfred's eyes were wide and cat-like, his blue iris' glowing supernaturally, illuminating his entire face. The American's chin was still drenched with the fresh blood of his last victim, and his smile was wide with adrenaline as his fangs were protruding from his row of otherwise perfect teeth. He looked beastly and terrifying to any human, but to Arthur; he was beautiful and alluring.

Arthur could not believe how lucky he was to have found a partner like Alfred, it was a blessing for him to have found someone who not only shared in his vampiric curse; but thrived because of it.

Finally, the trail of Feliciano's blood ended at the lamppost before an old fashioned house, the entire front yard was covered in trees and bushes, and a set of stairs led to the tall front door. On the other side of the road sat a small park, with a tiny playground and a couple of trees and bushes, they had arrived in the peaceful outskirts of New York City. Arthur and Alfred knew that they had found it, they found the werewolves' lair. Arthur could smell the scent of Feliciano's blood leaking through the walls, and he knew that they were defiantly right, and Feliciano had done his job.  
However… the scent of werewolves wasn't as strong… they weren't home. Alfred and Arthur glanced at each other and tensed, both absolutely full and covered in human blood, the combinations of scents drove the vampires absolutely insane with adrenaline and yearning.

A deep growl thundered from the bushes behind them, it was then that Arthur and Alfred realised that the hunters had become the hunted: and the wolves were lying in waiting for the vampires to arrive.

Alfred and Arthur turned to face the ordination of the sound, only to see two pairs of narrow eyes staring at them from the darkness of the trees. One pair of eyes were glowing with a bright sky blue, whilst the others were a deep bloody red, matching the blood that stained Alfred and Arthur's skin. The wolves were noticeably angry at the sight of the vampires covered in human blood, as their growls became louder and deeper, echoing through the street like thunder.

Alfred and Arthur braced themselves, tensing their arms and baring their fangs, showing off their intimidating power. The wolves take this as an opportunity, one howls to the full moon as they prowl out of the darkness like lions, but as tall as horses.  
The vampires tensed, not intimidated by the size of the wolves: they had fought larger wolves in the past.

However, Arthur couldn't help but analyse.  
Despite having fought bigger wolves before, that wolf was alone. They had never faced a pack.  
Arthur shook away his anxiety, faithful to his confidence in his and Alfred's abilities.

"Did you like our surprise?!" Alfred asked, his confidence pouring out in his voice and posture, he intended to make the wolves angry, and encourage them to initiate the fight. "That's what you get for trashing our fucking apartment!"

"Alfred…" Arthur hissed, needing more time to analyse and plan an attack on the wolves.

"He tasted amazing…" Alfred chuckled, his eyes darkening with evil intent, "I'm surprised you hadn't killed him upon his return."

It was with that, the wolves had lost their patience with the vampires. The dark wolf with blue eyes leapt out of the darkness first, with the other following him.

Arthur leapt into action, turning to leap onto the wolves back as he lunged into Alfred, to attack him for his harsh words. However, before Arthur could grip onto the wolves rough fur, a sharp pain stung through his leg before he was suddenly pulled from the wolves back, being dragged away by the his leg, that was fastened into the jaws of the werewolf with the red eyes. Arthur couldn't help by scream in pain as the werewolf's sharp teeth pierced his precious skin, sending Arthur into a rage.

Alfred began to act on his fight with the wolf with the blue eyes, but upon hearing Arthur scream, his attention had left the wolf with blue eyes, as he ran past him and lunged onto the other wolf, unafraid to attack him in the face. Alfred scratched at the wolf's eye with his sharp nails before taking a bite into the back of his head, forcing the wolf to release Arthur's leg.

With his leg free, Arthur rose from the ground, only to be knocked back down by the wolf with blue eyes. Arthur gasped when he saw the wolf open his mouth and lunge towards Arthur's face, to prevent his head from being bitten off, Arthur shoved his hands into the werewolves mouth and held it open, the wolf struggled and began to attempt to scratch at Arthur, but miss as the Brit was significantly thinner than the wolf.  
Sensing the danger, Arthur kicked into the wolf's middle with all of his power, knocking the werewolf clear off of his feet and crashing to the ground.

Suddenly Arthur turned to face Alfred as the American as he kicked into the wolf with red eyes, sending the beast flying across the street and into the park. Arthur had never been happier to see Alfred using his strength.  
Perhaps… if Arthur could make eye contact with one of the wolves for long enough….—

Arthur's thought process was interrupted when the werewolf smashed into his side, knocking him into Alfred and knocking them both to the hard concrete, creating a dip in the surface. Before the wolf with blue eyes could initiate another attack while the vampires were down, Alfred and Arthur rose off of their backs and ran into the playground, mentally deciding that working together on one wolf at a time would be the best option. They both knew that they worked better together, and that separating would mean their end.

Arthur bared his teeth and hissed like a cat as he and Alfred surrounded the wolf, however, Arthur knew that he had to watch for the second wolf. Alfred took advantage of facing the wolves, back and jumped onto him, latching his teeth into the wolf's shoulder blade: the weakest spot.

Upon seeing this, the wolf with blue eyes refocussed his attention from Arthur onto Alfred, changing his path and moving to circle Alfred.  
The wolf with red eyes hissed and whimpered in pain as they desperately jumped and shake, desperate to make Alfred lose his grip. However his attempts were in vain, as Alfred's grip was so perfect, nothing could shake him off.

Arthur defended Arthur by jumping in the way of the wolf with blue eyes, hissing and baring his teeth, the wolf only growled in response and tackled Arthur to the ground, returning to the same situation they were in before, however instead of attempting to bite Arthur's head off, the wolf began to claw into the British vampire like how a dog would dig a hole: ripping him in the stomach.

Arthur screamed at the realisation of what was happening to him, his eyes widening with shock as his screaming became frantic and scattered. He finally felt the pain begin as his own blood splashed off of the wolf's paws and onto his face.

"ARTHUR!" Alfred screamed as he released himself from the werewolf's back and dashed to his partner, within seconds, the werewolf had been kicked away, and Arthur was scooped into Alfred's arms. Arthur had fallen unconscious from the loss of blood and pain, usually vampires would sleep or consume human blood to regenerate. However, no one was sure whether either of those would be able to save him from the gruesome wounds inflicted on his body.  
Alfred panicked, everywhere he looked, and he could see the wolves preparing to lunge at him, baring their teeth and growling like the dogs that they were. With Arthur limp in his arms, Alfred's couldn't afford to put him down and leave him vulnerable to attack.

After much inner debate, Alfred had made his decision, he needed to run.

Before the wolves could lung at him, Alfred turned and ran, he didn't know where he planned to go; he only knew that he had to get away from the wolves. Using his powerful speed, he ran down the street as fast as a bullet, holding Arthur in his arms, Alfred couldn't help but notice that Arthur felt lighter from the blood loss. Arthur's blood loss was enormous, enough the kill a human, and it would have killed him already, if it weren't for his numerous victims, whose blood sustained the vampire through the injury and bought them a little bit more time.

 _"Stay with me, Arthur. Come on, hang in there!"_ Alfred hissed as he tightened his grip on Arthur. Alfred could only think about where he could go …. However, one idea constant popped back into his head, and as Alfred became more desperate, the idea became more appealing.  
 _The witch…_

Alfred gasped as he glanced to his side to see a patch of dark fur dash to his side, before keeping behind him, Alfred glanced back to see the wolves chasing him, desperate to end the feud. Alfred knew that if he slowed down now: he and Arthur will die.


	6. Chapter 6

Alfred panicked as he turned into another street, desperate to lose the wolves that followed behind him, effectively hunting him and Arthur, who lay limp in his arms.

The image of Yao the witch popped into his head again and again, until visiting him became Alfred's only option, however, he couldn't do it until he had lost the wolves behind him. Alfred was thankful for his powers of speed and strength; for he knew that if it was Arthur who was carrying him: they'd both be dead because Alfred was confident that Arthur wouldn't have left him.

Alfred picked up the pace and pushed himself to his limit when he heard a wolf bark from behind him, Alfred knew that he had to get rid of them, and now! As Alfred began to run deeper into New York City, he rushed to dodge cars as well as the eyes of people who walked along the streets, despite the late hour, the streets were buzzing with activity. Alfred knew that he had to use this to his advantage, because he knew that the werewolves didn't want to risk being seen, whereas Alfred could easily blend in with the crowd. However, he looked down at Arthur to see the Brit's pale bloodstained skin and clothing dash away any of his chances of hiding in a crowd. All Alfred could do is run and pray, pray that the wolves wouldn't catch up to him and pray that humans won't cause a scene.

Alfred was quickly running out of options, as the crowd became denser, however, Alfred began to notice the werewolves initiating a retreat, as they slowed down, unwilling to engage with the crowd.

He finally realised that he was experiencing what it was like to be hunted, and understood the terror and defeat in his victim's eyes when he finally chased them down and ended their lives, he was a monster, and now he monster was going to be finally hunted down like the prey. He glanced down at Arthur and craved that look he saw in Arthur's eyes, that sensual and confident glow that shook Alfred to his chilly heart.

Suddenly, Alfred couldn't hear the wolves behind him; he could no longer hear their deep growling or the _thump_ of their large paws on the concrete. Alfred stopped running and turned around, only to see that the wolves have disappeared, either they have gone into hiding, or retreated.

 _"OH MY GOD!"_ A woman screamed at the sight of Alfred and Arthur, and the blood that stained their entire fronts.  
Alfred suddenly remembered that because he had stopped running he was now visible to everyone around him and a crowd of disturbed and concerned pedestrians had made a crowd around the American vampire and his unconscious lover, who lay bleeding in his arms.

Alfred stared around the entire circle of people who stared at him like a beastly animal on display =, to be judged —they probably think that he did this to Arthur!  
He hissed at anyone who tried to come closer, he searched desperately for a way out, but knew that he would have little problems making one if the need presented him. Alfred felt as though he was a tiger trapped in a corner, when he finally lost his patience with these people; he growled and flashed his fangs at anyone who came remotely close to him and Arthur, shocking them all with his animosity and terrifying teeth.  
Finally, a chance presented itself in the form of an Alfred-sized gap between an old man and a young woman, instantly Alfred resumed his speed-run; disappearing from any human's sight. He took his chance and climbed up the fire escape of an apartment building, using the darkness to an advantage. Alfred laid Arthur down on the metal walkway, letting the Brit rest as Alfred gathered his thoughts and tried to develop something that slightly resembled a plan.

"Come on, Arthur, stay with me for just a little longer," Alfred cooed as he delicately brushed some of Arthur's hair off of his face, "I'll make that witch help you, no matter what the price is."  
Alfred dashed around the small space of the fire escape, desperate to find some hint of a witch's scent or anything that would point him in the right direction. With irritation he looked down at Arthur and sighed: not only would Arthur remember exactly where the witch was, but he would be able to sense the witch!  
Alfred fought the urge to kick the wall in and attack whoever was inside the apartment building: just to calm himself down! However, not only would Alfred be lonely doing it, but Alfred knew that he didn't have the time to be a selfish monster: he had to think about Arthur's condition, god only knew how much time the Brit had left.

Alfred knew that if he could find a familiar road, he could be able to follow his memory and return to the Chinese antique shop where they first met Yao. Alfred did not care about how much it would cost: he knew that Yao could help bring Arthur back.

 _"Alfred…"_ a weak voice murmured, catching Alfred's attention, Alfred immediately dropped to his knees before Arthur, relieved to see the Brit staring up at him, despite his eyes revealing no colour, to Alfred, Arthur looked like a cracked procaine doll, stained with vibrant red blood.

"It's going to be ok, Arthur, I'm here…" Alfred cooed as he took Arthur's chilled hand into his own. "We're going to find the witch, and he will help you!"  
Without a second to spare, Alfred rolled up his sleeve and placed his bare wrist before Arthur's mouth, "Here, you need something to drink."  
Alfred smiled hopefully when he saw Arthurs bloodstained lips curve into a smile, before his eyes closed again and his head tilted to the side, returning to his deep sleep.  
"Arthur, don't do this to me! I need you!"  
Alfred hopelessly rubbed his wrist into Arthur's lips, trying his best to get to the unconscious vampire's fangs.

It took Alfred a couple of minutes before Alfred finally gave up. He knew that he had to get moving again, and as he rose to his feet with Arthur in his arms, he made a decision of which direction to go, and how to get there.  
Alfred continued to run up the stairs of the fire escape, determined to reach the roof of the building; Alfred was about to do a trick that he and Arthur used to do in London to kill their boredom and track victims, but now he was going to do it to save Arthur's life.

He ran across the rooftops of the countless buildings like a nightmare, using the full moon and the lights from the city bellow as his guide, he quickly leapt between the far gaps between some of the buildings. Before he had realised, he had gone down dozens of different streets by this method, and wondered why he hadn't thought of this earlier … however… surely the wolves would use this mode of transport too, so Alfred kept an eye out for those dark figures on the other rooftops or behind him.

Alfred dashed from one apartment rooftop, before landing on the roof of the take-away shop next door, before stopping… he peered off of the roof and onto the street bellow, and hope filled Alfred's heart when he looked across the street and saw the familiar red glow of the Chinese antique shop, _he made it_.

 _"Nearly there, Arthur,"_ Alfred whispered as he tightened his grip on Arthur.  
Alfred knew that the witch was there, he had to be there, either in the small shop, or in the rooms above the shop.

Alfred jumped off of the roof and ran across the road, not letting the 'closed' sign stop him from kicking the handle of the glass entrance door, kicking the door open and leaving a terrible crack in the glass.

"YAO!" Alfred cried as he carried Arthur into the shop. "YAO!"

Alfred's sensitive hearing could hear figures bump around upstairs; the American began to grow impatient at the lack of response, and dashed into Yao's witching room, where they had first met the witch. As he heard the noises continued, Alfred searched for a place to let Arthur rest. "YAO GET DOWN HERE, NOW!"

"What do you think you're doing here!?" Yao snapped as the door at the back of the room opened, and the grumpy and tired witched marched into the red witching room, with his young apprentice in tow.

"Help us! Please!" Alfred gasped, turning around to show Yao the damage done to Arthur, the witch and his apprentice shuddered at the sight of the horrific wounds on Arthur's middle, and the splash of blood that stained nearly his entire body.

"The hunt began earlier than expected…" Yao sighed as he put his hands together, before looking to his apprentice.

"Please, help him! I don't care what it takes!" Alfred cried, "You can take all of the blood he doesn't need, you can have mine too! I'll be your personal vampiric blood bank! I don't care! _Just bring him back!"_

Yao and his apprentice stared at Alfred in confusion, before Yao looked to his apprentice and nodded, "Leon, set up the table and get all of my healing supplies out. Prepare for a lesson."

 _"THANK YOU!"_ Alfred sighed loudly as Leon nodded before turning away and walking to Yao's small table, before folding out the sides and tripling it in size.

"I've never seen a vampire appeal with emotion before…" Yao chuckled as he rubbed his chin, "usually I hear from the wolves: _heal me or you die._ Just how important is he to you?"

"He's everything…" Alfred admitted as he laid Arthur down on the table.

"This may take a while… and I don't know if it's possible…" Yao muttered as he began to inspect Arthur's wounds, "It's very hard to bring something back to life when it was dead to begin with."

"I'm not too late, am I?" Alfred shuddered, if Alfred had the ability to cry: he knew that he'd be on the floor as an absolutely sobbing mess.

"I… I don't know…" Yao sighed as Leon began to unbutton Arthur's shirt, staining his fingertips in blood, "but I will try…"

Alfred revealed his wrist to the witch, "If there is anything you need to do _, do it."_

Yao nodded, "those wolves will kill me for helping you."

Alfred frowned, as his curiosity got the better of him, "why are you helping us?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a supernatural being here? I'm just lucky those mutts are tolerable to witches!" Yao hissed, "They visit me monthly, demand that I pay them in order to keep my place in the city, do them favours! Heal them! Urhh! They're worse than the mob! As soon as I met you two, I _thought_ you will be able to take them."

"We tried!" Alfred hissed, "You didn't warn us of just how strong they were!"

"Don't blame me for this, I warned you that they were strong, I warned you that they hunt vampires, _I warned you that they were going to hunt you down!_ " Yao hissed as he bent over Arthur, staring at Alfred with his vibrant brown eyes.

Alfred huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest, "what are you going to do now? You said so yourself, they'll kill you for helping us."

"That's where you two come in…" Yao muttered.

"What?!" Alfred asked, as Yao's eyes widened glowing with a deep purple as his hands hovered over Arthur.

"Listening Leon? There are extensive injuries, his healing factor is operating, and however, it's too slow…" Yao explained as Leon and Alfred listened intently. "If I intervene with the blood loss with a rubbing potion to slow the movement of blood, before stitching his stomach together with special string, before stitching him together and leaving a healing charm on his body… That usually works for stab wounds; it is worth giving a go for this… However… his ribs are also broken…"  
Suddenly, Yao snapped out of his trance and turned his head to look at Leo.  
"We've got company… Leon, set up a border protection charm around our shop. Use the protection characters I have in my desk and the chalk, write them on the footpath outside. You know how to set up a charm. It should keep the wolves at bay…"

"But, Yao!" Leon stuttered, "I don't think I—"

"Don't disobey my orders!" Yao snapped, "If I leave Arthur now, he will die. Now, do it before the wolves get too close! If they get in here, they'll kill us all!"


	7. Chapter 7

"I don't know whether I'll be able to do this alone…" Yao muttered as he continued to inspect Arthur's wounds, "If he wasn't a vampire, he would be beyond dead."

"But can you still do anything?" Alfred asked, gritting his teeth, battling against the urge to fight with reality.

"I will need help," Yao muttered, "Although I know someone who can help… Please, go and watch over Leon for now, I'll let you know when I've spoken with them."

Alfred nodded, but instead of turning around and leaving the red room, Alfred bent down to be at eye level with Arthur. "Stay with me, Arthur," Alfred whispered before dipping his head into Arthur, delivering a kiss to his sleeping beauty. Alfred couldn't help but feel disappointed when Arthur didn't wake up.  
Following Yao's request, Alfred hesitantly pulled himself away from Arthur, lingering on the Englishman's touch. Alfred then walked towards the entrance of the shop and stepped outside, where he saw Leon on his hands and knees on the footpath, frantically drawing symbols and characters on the footpath in red chalk, creating a semicircle of red characters around the entrance to the shop.

"Yao said that he's going to contact someone who can help him," Alfred explained.

"Oh," Leon muttered, "he does have a couple of witch friends within the city, it would be a wise idea to get help for such a horrid injury—sorry."

Alfred frowned, trying to appear unaffected by Leon's admission, and so he ignored it, "So, how does Asian magic work?"

"It mainly focusses on magic, herbalism, clairvoyance and astrology," Leon explained, not breaking his concentration from his characters, "Back home, it's known as Gu, but here you would call it black magic."

"Huh…" Alfred chuckled with interest, thinking about how Arthur had always been fascinated by all kinds of witchcraft and black magic; he would have loved to have this conversation with the witch's apprentice. "What are you doing now?"

"Creating a barrier around the shop, it should deter the wolves," Leon explained, "these characters are very detailed and intricate and are made from chalk that is a ground up cursed powder, if I do this right: the wolves shouldn't be able to pass the barrier."

"Great," Alfred muttered, "so…"  
Alfred hated the silence, as it worsened his nervousness over Arthur's situation, he wanted to know everything he could about these witches and their craft, anything he could do to understand how they were going to bring Arthur back to him.  
"You're an apprentice?"

"Every witch starts out as an apprentice, usually they pair up with a relative who is a witch, usually an aunt or an uncle, not usually their own parents; unless if there are no other options. I don't know how the other countries do it, but I know of some European witches who do apprenticeships as well."

"So, I'm assuming that Yao is your uncle," Alfred guessed.

"The best witch in my family…" Leon sighed, "My parents chose to send me here because they knew that he could teach me better than anyone else."

Alfred dreaded asking this question, however, it festered in the back of his mind like a sore, driving his curiosity crazy, "do you think he can save Arthur? Please, be honest with me."

"That task would have been too much for one witch alone to handle, vampires have always been difficult to handle, especially when it comes to saving from the grip of death, considering they were already creatures of death to begin with…" Leon admitted as he stood up from the footpath, having finished his last symbol. "However… if he has another witch to help him, it may work."

"I see…" Alfred sighed, unsure of whether he should remain hopeful or fall into a state of dread.

"We should get back inside; we don't know if we're being watched…" Leon muttered as he led Alfred back inside the shop. "But… What is it like to take someone's blood?"

Alfred smiled at the young man's curiosity, "it's like being doused with water after travelling through a desert. For us, it doesn't matter whether we just finished drinking from someone else, the sensation is always the same. It is a relief, we're doing what nature called us to do; _kill."_

Leon stared at Alfred blankly, unshaken by the vampire's admission, "I take it that you're experienced, if you have that kind of mindset about mindless feasting."

"Hundreds of years, you should talk to Arthur about age, I'm sure that old man was a victim of the European witch craze of the 15th century," Alfred chuckled before suddenly frowning when he remembered the situation that Arthur was in.

"I've made contact," Yao announced from the red room, "Leon, do the symbols look good?"

"I did the best job I could," Leon replied as he and Alfred walked into the red room, to see that Yao had set up a table covered in herbal remedies and magical tools. He wore a long black cloak, with the hood concealing his hair, his red eyeliner standing out as the only colour upon him. He carried a staff that was decorated with black feathers and beads.

"I've got to control the bleeding before he gets here," Yao admitted before nodding to Leon, "get your cloak on."

As Leon nodded and ran off to prepare himself, Alfred was left standing there with confusion and anxiety, "what can I do?"

Yao's dark eyes narrowed, "pray."

"That's a terrible idea; no God will listen to me," Alfred hissed as he moved to stand beside the table where Arthur laid, before brushing his hair through his lovers hair, doing anything to remind him that Alfred was still there, and he was going to pay whatever cost it took to bring him back.

Alfred spent the next half an hour observing the witches as they whispered spells and burned cursed incense, doing all they could to prevent Arthur from bleeding to death. Alfred felt powerless… he felt like a child as he watched on with confusion and anxiety, unable to comprehend what was happening before him, and unable to help. Suddenly, he heard the door to the antique shop open, making Yao smile.

"They're here." Yao muttered as two cloaked figures entered the red room, wearing similar black hooded cloaks to what Yao and Leon wore.

"You have company waiting outside…" a man said in a deep European accent, "what did you do to piss off the werewolf brothers so badly, bloodsucker?"  
The figures removed their cloaks revealing their similar heads of long blonde hair. The eldest was obvious, for he had eyes that were darkened and narrowed by age and experience, however the colour of his eyes was a bright blue, like the summer sky. His long blonde hair bordered his narrow, but attractive face and a bit of stubble under his chin.  
However, it was the taller apprentice who caught his attention.

The vampire's neighbour stared at him with a smirk, "aren't you glad that you didn't kill me now?"

Alfred shrugged, trying to appear not as shocked as he was to learn that his Canadian neighbour was a witch's apprentice. Alfred tried to not think about how he and Arthur actually considered killing him and feasting off of his blood earlier that night.

"Oh, if you hurt my apprentice; the wolves wouldn't be the only thing for you to worry about," the French witch explained.

"Francis, you should take a look at these injuries," Yao pointed out, catching the attention of the two new witches. "Excessive blood loss, severed stomach, broken ribs; he is an absolute mess."

"Let me see," Francis replied as he hovered his head over Arthur's injuries, before gasping at the extent of the damage. "Oh mon dieu…"

"Is it really that bad…?" Alfred asked fearfully, becoming more and more anxious after each time someone said something about the extent of Arthur's injuries, the two witches and their apprentices stared at him; all of their eyes sharing the same glow of sympathy.

"Please, excuse us for a moment," Yao muttered to Alfred, "we have more things we need to assess. You don't want to see this."

"I don't care."

"Alfred, you do not want to argue with us," Yao replied, gritting his teeth.

He was right, Yao and Leon had endangered themselves to help him, and they said so themselves: the wolves will kill them for helping him and Arthur. And so, Alfred left without another word, standing on the other side of the door to the red room, staring at the antiques of the Chinese shop.

 _"_ _Why are we helping them?!"_ Francis whispered.

 _"_ _Because they can fight the wolves!"_ Yao replied. _"You and I cannot fight them, but if we teamed up with these two vampires, we can finally outnumber them and separate them."_

 _"_ _They're vampires, we cannot trust them."_

 _"_ _Alfred is different," Yao explained, "He is willing to do anything to save Arthur. Besides, vampires are bound by their debts, if we save Arthur: he will be in debt to us."_

 _"_ _Heh…."_ Francis chuckled, _"We're employing a vampire to free us from werewolves… how degrading for the name of the witch. But, I suppose that there are no other options for us."_

Alfred frowned after hearing them mention his name, until a head appeared through the door frame, his violet eyes staring deeply into Alfred's, they were narrow with anger.

"I suggest you move away…" Matthew admitted.

Alfred's eyes narrowed at the apprentice as he began to step away from the wall, ending his ability to hear the witches speak. Alfred didn't need to say anything to the Canadian, as he was honestly still silently thankful that he and Arthur hadn't killed him.

And so, he spent the next couple of minutes wandering through Yao's shop, staring at the antiques… until the feeling of being watched stopped him in his tracks. Alfred glanced out the window to see two pairs of glowing eyes staring at him from the darkness. Alfred's muscles tensed as he fought the temptation to fight the wolves, to grant them the same injuries they had placed upon Arthur… however… his rationality won the fight.

"I hate to interrupt…" Alfred announced as he burst back into the red room, using the wolves as an opportunity to stand close to Arthur again, and perhaps re-join the conversation with the witches, "but we have company outside, and they don't seem happy."

Yao sighed, "We have to move him."

"What?!" Alfred snapped, gnarling his teeth, reminding the witches of the force they were facing.

"We need to go to my home, where I have all of my healing supplies. We should be able to fix him there, and he should be walking again by sundown tomorrow night…" Francis explained as he hooked his arms under Arthur's knees and shoulder's lifting him off of the table, where he had left a horrid bloodstain on the dark wood.

Alfred flinched at the sight, "I can carry him—"

"I can get him there faster, I am a _Skyrider,"_ Francis pointed out.

"Don't worry, we have a way that you can help," Yao pointed out, "the three of us are going to keep the wolves busy as Francis takes Arthur out of here."

The plan alone filled Alfred with anxiety, however, he couldn't let it break his cold exterior, for he knew that Arthur's life depended on the witches believing that Alfred was the weapon they were waiting for, and so he nodded and smiled, creating a façade of confidence over his anxiety.

He had to be ready for a fight, whether he wanted to be or not: for Arthur.


	8. Chapter 8

Alfred twitched, ready for a fight, his hands tensed as he pictured himself ripping those mutts to shreds, it would serve them right; after what they did to Arthur. The American straightened his posture as he watched the French witch pull a black hood over Arthur's face.

"Now Alfred, for your information, when we refer to the wolves by their names: the one with the red eyes is called Gilbert, he is the eldest brother, and the one with blue eyes is Ludwig," Yao explained, "they will be very angry when they learn that Francis and I are going against the pact, so be weary…. They have a history of having a bad temper."

"Right…" Alfred muttered, happy to finally have names to refer to.

"We want to confuse them," Matthew pointed out as he handed Alfred a long piece of black cloth, Alfred nodded as he took the cloak and covered his shoulders and tossed the hood over his head and like the witches, Alfred had turned into a mass of darkness.

"Now, the plan," Yao began, "Alfred and Matthew will guard Francis and keep Ludwig and Gilbert at bay as he takes Arthur to safety. At the same time, Leon and I will be smuggling our supplies out of the back and we'll meet all of you at Francis' home where we can operate on Arthur in peace."

Alfred felt all eyes fall on him, as though the witches were awaiting his approval. Alfred knew that this was his last chance to back down, to take Arthur away and look after him himself, but Alfred knew that if he was selfish enough to do that: Arthur would die.

Alfred knew that witches do not offer services from the good of their own hearts; because they don't have any. Witches always have a cost; which is what makes them so dangerous to deal with, however, Alfred knew that there weren't any other options for him to consider. Often the prices of witches were personal and demanding, some deals spanning over decades, even centuries, Alfred may have chained himself to the men before him for all eternity. Alfred no longer wanted to even imagine what the cost of saving Arthur's life will be, but he knew that it would be worth it.  
He knew that the witches would use him, he'd be their puppet and Arthur their strings, he will be forever in their debt for bringing Arthur back.

Alfred could already imagine Arthur screaming and cursing when he finds out that Alfred had struck a deal with the witches, as he had always ranted over his distrust of the witch-kind, and would be insulted that Alfred let him be in the grip of one, a French one, nonetheless. But, as Alfred constantly reminded himself: it will be worth it.

"Alright," Alfred muttered, tilting his head upward to stare at the witches before him, "I'm in, but if Arthur dies; so do all of you."

"Just take care of the wolves and Arthur will be fine," Francis replied before nodding to Matthew, "do not separate," Francis' eyes narrowed as he glanced at Alfred, determined to put the vampire back into his place, "Keep in mind, bloodsucker: if my apprentice dies under your care; so does Arthur."  
Under his hood, Alfred noticed Yao's lips curl into an amused smile.

"We should go now, before the wolves become too impatient," Yao encouraged before gesturing to Leon to begin cleaning Yao's supplies, "we will see you all soon."

"Au revoir." Francis muttered as he carried Arthur out of the red room, with Alfred and Matthew following behind him, awaiting his instruction. "Now, you'll need to keep the wolves away from my feet as I begin to rise. Like a plane, I will need to run up, before I can take off. The wolves know to aim for my legs, so they will not hesitate to jump for me: especially when they see that I'm holding Arthur. I'm a running chew-toy. "

Alfred tightened his fists at the fact that Arthur was going to be at risk, he wanted to be the one to hold Arthur and carry him to safety. But Alfred knew that complaining about the situation wouldn't be the wisest idea. Alfred followed Matthew and stood before Francis.

"I'm faster," Alfred pointed out, "I can go out first and push them back."

"I can keep them back with my magic," Matthew added.

"Heh, cute. What? You're gonna chant spells and cast hexes?" Alfred chuckled, Matthew didn't reply to Alfred verbally, but rolled his eyes; giving the American a clear indication of his feelings. After asserting his supernatural dominance over the Canadian, Alfred stepped into the Chinese Antique shop and glanced out the window, seeing those same pairs of eyes staring at him, as though they knew that he was there all along.

"They don't look impressed…" Matthew muttered.

"It's ok, Mathieu, remember what I told you and you will be fine," Francis explained, "If you forget something, stand behind the vampire."

"Yeah, do it. I'll babysit you too, I don't care." Alfred chuckled; determine to not scathe his confidence in the presence of the witches. He was determined to be whatever they needed him to be, whether it's as a weapon or a human shield: as long as Arthur comes back to him, he does not care.

Alfred was reminded of this when he turned to ask the Frenchman what he wanted him to do, but stopped when he caught a glimpse of Arthur's pained face, despite his sleep; Arthur's lips were shut tightly as his face was tense with pain. Alfred spoke, not once breaking his stare with Arthur, "what will you have me do first?"

Alfred listened as Francis explained what actions he was going to take, and planned what he was going to do in response.  
Alfred had two jobs to do, protect Francis until he runs too high for the wolves to reach, and then protect Matthew until they returned to Francis' house.

Alfred was the first to stand outside, feeling the heavy stares of the werewolves weigh him down, despite this, he could not be afraid. As he stepped past Leon's magical border, Francis and Matthew dashed behind him, immediately the wolves acted when they saw who Francis was carrying. Alfred bared his fangs and kept the wolves to the footpath as he kept at the same speed as Francis, keeping the wolves at bay as they growled like animals.

Francis watched Alfred carefully, still questioning his ability to trust the vampire, however, as he and Yao discussed: the sacrifice will be worth their freedom from the wolves' tyranny. Francis could feel the werewolves' eyes on him, and he knew that he was now on the Beilschmidt's blacklist; and they will kill him if they get the chance. The treaty between the witches and the werewolves was now absolutely severed, Francis glanced at Gilbert and Ludwig, being able to recognise their wolf forms, and sighed as they stared at him like a bitter foe—like he had betrayed them. Francis felt his legs buzz as his magic flowed through his veins, as he activated his power. Skyriding was a skill that Francis had dedicated nearly a century to learning, an ancient method that only witches of the highest skill could perform, some witches could run to the moon if they had the patience. Francis tightened his grip on Arthur's shoulder as he began to perform the magical act and his eyes glazed over with a potent violet as well as at his feet. Francis began to run up an artificial staircase, his magic forming the small violet steps for Francis to step towards the sky.

The wolves saw this as their last chance to get to Francis, as the Frenchman picked up the pace and began to get higher and higher. The wolves split up and ran on either side of the trio, bringing them closer.  
Matthew gasped when he saw Gilbert running beside him, gnawing his teeth at the petrified Canadian.  
Matthew shook away his anxiety, he is the apprentice of a powerful witch: he has to prove that his years of training have not been in vain. Matthew had spent his time with Francis fearing the werewolves' and now was his chance to finally destroy his fear. Gilbert growled as he gnawed his teeth in Matthews, direction, making the Canadian jump and squeal, however, he did not give up his position: he couldn't allow the wolf to take a shot at Francis' legs. Matthew knew that Gilbert was not afraid of getting close to him, because he knew that the Canadian feared him. Gilbert was using Matthew's anxiety against him, and Matthew wasn't willing to let it work.

Matthew stretched out his hand and engulfed it in violet flames, before dispersing his magic and releasing it in one powerful blow, knocking Gilbert in the shoulder blade, surely surprising the werewolf with the amount of power that Matthew had.

Alfred was also surprised by Matthew's power, however, he couldn't be distracted for long, as Ludwig took the opportunity to lunge forward and attempt to swing his claws at Francis' legs. But before he could reach Alfred took a swing at Ludwig's middle with all of his strength, which knocked the werewolf to the ground. Francis was finally high enough to be out of the werewolves reach, and continued to run into the sky. Alfred and Matthew glanced at each other.

"We have to lose them before we can re-join Francis," Matthew pointed out.

Alfred and Matthew continued to run, their black cloaks floating behind them as they ran, hearing the wolves prowl behind them, growling loudly.  
Matthew turned swiftly and swiped his arm, creating a barrier of violet fire, making the wolves' screech to a halt. Giving Alfred and Matthew a couple of more seconds to create some distance between them.

"How's that for magic?" Matthew asked.

"Impressive," Alfred pointed out, "where do we need to go?"

"I know a shortcut that goes through central park, we'll have to move quickly, the wolves can easily use the trees to hide from us," Matthew explained.

"I had an idea," Alfred pointed out before speeding up to run in front of Matthew, "jump on my back!"

"WHAT?" Matthew asked, before shrivelling at the noise of the werewolves' claws scratching the concrete as they jumped over his violet fire barrier. "Fine…" Hesitantly, Matthew jumped onto the Vampires back, "remember what Francis said—"

"If you die, so does Arthur, _I get it…"_ Alfred growled, "I'm not going to kill you, I thought we'd already been through this."

"I'm just making sure that you can control yourself," Matthew replied, "you and Arthur looked at me like a fucking Sunday Roast back at the apartment. It was just creepy."

"Well, you're just lucky that you had called the police…" Alfred replied as he began to speed up, reaching inhuman speeds, still hearing the werewolves' growl and bark behind them. "Besides, if we had known that you were an apprentice: we would have maybe reconsidered… _maybe.._."

"Left!" Matthew snapped as Alfred zoomed towards and intersection, Alfred obeyed and took a left turn, only for the wolves' to follow.

Suddenly Alfred glanced to the side to see those same blue eyes stare directly into his non-existent soul, determined to make a kill. "SHIT!" Before Alfred could speed up, he was charged into by Ludwig, knocking him over and sending him and Matthew into a parked car, creating a heavy crevasse on the metal door. Alfred heard Matthew wheeze in pain as his grip on Alfred momentarily loosened. Alfred glanced upward to see the wolves advancing towards him, growling and gnawing their teeth viciously.

"We're nearly there, we just need to get past them…" Matthew wheezed as he rubbed his side, reacting to the heavy blow.

As soon as Alfred attempted to rise off of his knees, Gilbert barked before lunging in, first grabbing Matthew by the leg.  
"NO!" Alfred snapped as he turned to fight Gilbert, however, Ludwig lunged into Alfred's front, pushing him into the ground.

As Alfred held on tightly to Ludwig's furry throat he listened to Matthew his and scream as he was dragged across the road. Alfred began to panic as he remembered Francis' threat; if he allows Matthew to die, so will Arthur.

Alfred kicked into Ludwig's middle with all of his strength, making the wolf whimper in pain; making Alfred want to kick again. Alfred used his strength to grip onto the werewolf's front legs, pinning him down as he continued to kick into his stomach. Alfred couldn't help but chuckled as Ludwig failed to concentrate on biting his head off because of the pain. Ludwig howled in pain, as Alfred delivered his final kick and released the werewolf's legs, and let him fall off of him. Alfred quickly rose off of the ground and ran to Matthew, who was still being dragged away.

Matthew's eyes glowed a vibrant violet as well as his hands, he was attempting to wave his burning hands in the werewolf's face, but it was only in vain as Matthew couldn't reach close enough to burn the wolf properly, as the pain in his leg became intolerable.  
However, Matthew couldn't help but wonder why Gilbert hadn't killed him yet… He was simply an apprentice and an easy target for a wolf his side: it was a miracle that Gilbert hadn't already ripped him to shreds… why wasn't he killing him…?

With Arthur in his mind, Alfred jumped onto Gilbert's back and sunk his teeth in to the back of Gilbert's neck: forcing the wolf to release Matthew's leg.

Matthew hissed in pain as he crawled away from Alfred and Gilbert's struggle, only to turn around and find himself at eye level with Ludwig.

"Please… don't…" Matthew whimpered.


	9. Chapter 9

Matthew's eyes widened with fear as he Ludwig began to growl, preparing to pounce. Matthew found himself frozen with fear as he literally stared death in the eyes, his breathing tensed as his chest tightened, Matthew could not remember what spells would help him out of this situation, he found himself trapped and with no way out. Matthew closed his eyes and shivered, accepting his defeat, and praying that Alfred will come to his rescue.  
Heh… some witches-apprentice he turned out to be, relying on a vampire to save him…  
Matthew shivered when he felt the wolf's warm breath blow on his face as he leaned in closely, as though inspecting him: analysing. Matthew began to tremble as he tried his best to not whimper too loudly, he could picture the werewolf baring his teeth, finally deciding to get the deed over with.

 _"_ _BACK AWAY FROM HIM!"_ Alfred roared followed by a loud crash, Matthew finally gained the courage to open his eyes to see Alfred smashing Ludwig's head into the concrete, creating a loud crack in the road. _"WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!"_

Without warning Alfred scooped the apprentice off of the road and into his arms, before making a dash for central park, leaping over the small wire fence and flower beds.

"I-I'm sorry; I wasn't much help," Matthew stuttered as Alfred dashed past the trees.

"Just tell me where to go," Alfred grumbled, "We're lucky that they didn't rip you to shreds! I'm shocked that they didn't."

"Francis and I broke the treaty, we're just as bad as Leon and Yao now…" Matthew pointed out, "Perhaps they don't like to kill apprentices. Because, we're technically not witches yet, that's why you and Arthur couldn't sense who I was back at the apartments. It's a cloaking curse that witches use to protect their apprentices, as soon as Francis feels that I am strong enough to protect myself, he will remove the curse and I will be a full-fledged witch."

"Interesting…" Alfred muttered as he zoomed across the footpath before re-entering the safety of the trees, constantly dashing from side to side to avoid the large obstacles, "I always wondered how witches worked…"

"Do you think they're still following us?" Matthew asked as he glanced over Alfred's shoulder, watched the world pass by as Alfred ran at the speed of a train.

"Probably, but my guess is that they already know where we're going," Alfred pointed out, "Am I heading in the right direction?"

"As long as you follow the path, you should be fine. Francis house is directly across from central park," Matthew explained.

"Is his house protected?" Alfred asked.

"Yes, there is a constant curse on the house; it prevents anyone who is not invited from entering," Matthew explained. "Francis is a very experienced witch, he knows what to do!"

Alfred gritted his teeth as he tightened his grip on Matthew, determined to not drop the apprentice as he ran faster than he has ever ran before, desperate to get to Arthur. Alfred couldn't help but feel a sense of nauseous relief, Matthew wasn't killed by the wolves: therefore Francis wasn't going to kill Arthur: But why? Why didn't the wolves kill Matthew when they had the chance? Could they really have some kind of moral code when it comes to apprentices?  
Alfred didn't want to think too hard about it, all he wants to focus on was saving Arthur, and to his relief, Alfred had made it, jumping over the small barrier between central park and the street beside it. Matthew quickly pointed him to the right house, which was a small white townhouse with many windows that were blocked with white curtains and a black front door. As Matthew was considered 'invited' he was the one to open the door and let Alfred inside.  
The house was dark, lit only with dim candles.

"Francis has begun working," Matthew pointed out as he picked up a candle holder and immediately led Alfred up the stairs, hardly giving the American enough time to admire the grandeur and European style of the house.

Matthew quickly led Alfred into a room dark room that was decorated with red curtains, dozens of bookshelves that were filled with books and magical devices, in the centre of the room, Alfred was relieved to see Arthur lying on a table, with his arms stretched out and Francis and Yao hovering over him, discussing how they were going to operate.

"Mathieu!" Francis gasped with relief, happy to see that his apprentice survived, until his smile disappeared when he saw the blood stain Matthew's leg, "what happened to you?!"

"I'm fine, it's just a scratch!" Matthew pointed out.

"I kept him safe, I kept my end of the deal," Alfred added.

"Alright, I suppose that I cannot argue that," Francis murmured.

"Good thing too, we need you," Yao pointed out.

"What can I do?" Alfred asked.

Francis gestured to Arthur's head, delicately running his hands over Arthur's pale jaw, before prying Arthur's mouth open, revealing his fangs, "You need to keep him hydrated while we're working, otherwise he will lose too much blood."

"Right!" Alfred replied as he rolled up his sleeve, revealing his bare arm as he walked around the table to stand before Arthur's head, Alfred leant forward and pushed his wrist into Arthur's mouth, feeling the Englishman's fangs pierce his skin.

"Now, let's get started," Yao murmured, as Matthew and Leon both stood on Arthur's sides, each holding down one arm, "Just as a warning, Arthur will move so be sure to hold him still. His body is not going to like being tampered with while unconscious. Please try to remember that he isn't feeling anything."

"Right…" Alfred muttered as he ran his free hand through Arthur's soft blonde hair, trying to tell himself that everything was going to be ok.  
As Francis and Yao began their operation, Alfred could only stare down at Arthur, thankful to hear the Brit drinking his blood, and watching his eyes twitch every time Francis or Yao did something to him... It looked … painful.  
"Are you sure that he can't feel any of this?"

"We're sure, it's his healing factor kicking in," Yao explained, his bloodstained hands hovering over Arthur's wound as Francis' hands began to glow with a violet light, before hovering over Arthur's wound.

"There are still some ribs left to fix… Keep him still," Francis added, "The worst is still to come, so he will move a lot."

"What are you doing to him?" Alfred asked, not once breaking his stare from Arthur's pained expression.

"Leon," Yao muttered, not once stopping his action, "Let's see if you've been paying attention…"

"Before you got here, we fed him a potion that sped up his healing factor," Leon pointed out.

"Why?" Francis chuckled, testing Leon's knowledge.

"I don't care if this is a fucking pop-quiz, I want to know what you're doing to Arthur!" Alfred snapped.

"Alfred, have patience," Francis replied, "We may as well pass the time. Besides, I don't think that you're in a position to complain…"  
The look in the Frenchman's eyes as he spoke shook Alfred to the very core, he spoke like he was delivering a threat…

"We made his healing factor work so it can mend his bones faster, so we can focus on stopping the bleeding and stitching him back together with a magic thread, so the wounds will heal quickly. When his body is closed and healing factor operational, Arthur can finish the rest of the job and heal himself internally," Leon explained, breaking the silence.

"Correct," Yao replied before chuckled and glancing at Francis, "We should do double-lessons more often."

Alfred was tempted to make a remark about how Arthur isn't going to be their anatomy lesson, however feeling Arthur's body twitch interrupted him.  
"Shhh…" Alfred whispered, before planting a sweet peck on Arthur's forehead, promising his lover and himself that he was going to make sure that everything was going to be ok. But yet, Alfred knew that this event was far from over, he had made a deal with the witches, and now he was theirs to control.  
All Alfred could do was pray that Arthur forgives him for making such a dangerous deal.


	10. Chapter 10

"There…" Francis sighed as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand, careful to avoid smearing Arthur's blood on his face.  
The French witch had done what he could to fix Arthur's wounds, however Arthur's body was left looking like a prop from a Frankenstein movie, with harsh stitches littering up his stomach and chest.  
"When he wakes up I'll remove the stitching: he will be as good as new."  
After hours of twitching uncomfortably, Arthur's body had finally relaxed, a sign that his healing factor was operating without interference. Alfred couldn't help but smile as Arthur looked as though he was finally at peace. Alfred now had the courage to finally pry his wrist out of Arthur's mouth, leaving lines of blood dripping down Alfred's arm from the puncture wound left by Arthur's fangs, however, he knew that it will be healed in a matter of minutes.  
However, he couldn't help but feel weakened by the lack of blood.

"I…" Alfred muttered awkwardly as he finally lifted his head to look at the witches, to see that they were already staring at him, in a way that didn't seem comforting; "thank you."

Yao was the first one to smile, before looking to Francis, "see? He's the first vampire I've ever seen to use an emotional appeal."

"Weird…" Francis muttered, "Nonetheless, we still helped you, and now you need to help us."

"What will you have me do?" Alfred asked firmly, tightening his hands into fists to somewhat ready himself to deal with the witches commands.  
Instantly he knew that they were going to use him to get rid of their werewolf problem, then god knows how they're going to use him afterwards. Alfred couldn't help but shudder at the thought of being a personal blood bank for the witches or being a tool in their demonic rituals … let alone what Arthur would say about that.  
But then again: anything is worth having Arthur back.

"You're going to kill the wolves, even if you die trying," Francis hissed.

 _"_ _What?!"_ Alfred snapped opening his mouth wide enough to expose his fangs.

Instinctually, the witches took it as a threat.  
"Remember, we brought Arthur back—we can easily take him away!" Francis pointed out.

"We're not stupid either, you only have to kill one of them: we will take the other," Yao explained, "even if you die doing it: the wolf will be alone by the end of it. With the Beilschmidt's gone, the pack will lose its order and eventually disband as we expand our territory."

"What if I do make it?" Alfred asked, "Will you let Arthur and I go?"  
Francis and Yao glanced at each other: obviously they hadn't thought that far ahead, which didn't help the sinking feeling in Alfred's gut.  
Alfred had to break the silence, otherwise he felt as though he was going to explode, "We'll go far away, never come back! We won't ever bother you again!"

"Arthur is definitely free to go: he is not in our deal, but if he wants to stay and join our pact: he's more than welcome." Yao explained as he rubbed his chin with his delicate hand, "but you however…"

 _"_ _Please…"_ Alfred whimpered, imagining the thought of Arthur having to leave him, or suffer alongside him. "But, if I die: is Arthur's freedom guaranteed? Make a pact with me: if I die, you will leave him alone! You will not harm him, trap him or exploit him, no matter what!"

"Fine, but if you live: you're our servant. You're ours to _harm, trap or exploit,_ " Francis added, before chuckling at Alfred's shocked expression, "you must surely know by now; witches don't make deals that don't benefit…"

"Can I have some time alone with Arthur, I need to think about this…" Alfred stuttered as he rested his fists on the table, beside Arthur's sleeping head.

"You may," Francis replied.

"Don't think about running," Yao pointed out as the witches and their apprentices turned to leave the room, "only a witch can remove those stitches… and we will hunt you down. Heh… if the wolves outside don't get you first."

Alfred couldn't help but agree as he heard the door shut behind him, engulfing the candle-lit room into silence. Alfred knelt down so his face hovered over Arthurs, "you'd know a way out of this, wouldn't you? God, you'd kill me if you knew what I did… I guess you were right about witches, they're not to be trusted…" Alfred frowned, imagining what kind of argument Arthur would present in response, "I had no choice, I can't lose you… even if… I become a witches slave… But—witches aren't immortal, you'd wait for me, right?"  
Arthur's silence was killing Alfred, _"I'm sorry."_

Despite leaving the room, Alfred felt as though he was still engulfed in darkness, his shoulders felt heavy from the weight of his anxiety, and seemingly dragged his feet down the grand staircase, where he could hear voices coming from downstairs.  
The once beautiful house had become dark and gloomy, even haunting, Alfred figured that his change of mood determined this...

 _"_ _Deal,"_ Alfred grumbled at the witches as they sat by the dinner table, interrupting their conversation, "If I die, you will let Arthur go, but if I live: I will be your slave."

"We knew that you'd make the emotive choice," Francis murmured as he and Yao rose from their seats.

"Give us your hands," Yao commanded as he and Francis took each of Alfred's hands, "Leon, Matthew; prepare to make a tri-pact."

Once again, the methods of witches intrigued Alfred, he figured that he may as well become used to it now: as he knew that he was going to be seeing a lot more of it.

Leon and Matthew wore magical gloves and held together their respected masters hands with Alfred's, together they hummed as the candles around the room intensified with a bright violet flame, signifying the magic at work.

Alfred had heard things about magical pacts from Arthur and so he knew the seriousness of the situation. The magic of the deal binds the two or more parties together by their agreement, meaning that the agreement cannot be dishonoured. However, Alfred does not know what happens if the agreement is dishonoured, he has heard theories that the agreement _cannot_ be dishonoured in the way that the parties cannot physically go against the agreement, as the magic won't allow it. Alfred has also heard legends of curses following those who break the agreement…

"Francis, Yao and Alfred all agree that they are going to fight the Beilschmidt werewolves. If Alfred survives his encounter with the brothers, he is to loyally serve Yao, Francis and whomever they wish without complaint or question. If Alfred dies in his encounter with the brothers, Francis and Yao are to not harm Arthur, they are to not attack him or exploit him: they are to let him go free no matter what." Matthew and Leon explained as their gloves glowed. Alfred could feel his hands tingle as the magic buzzed throughout his body; however he remained still, providing his consent to the agreement.

"Francis, do you agree to the terms of the agreement?" Matthew asked.

"Yes."

"Yao, do you agree to the terms of the agreement?"

"Yes."

"Alfred, do you agree to the terms of the agreement?"

Alfred swallowed his anxiety before finally speaking, _"Yes."_

Arthur's entire body felt numb as he was slowly dragged back into consciousness, pulling him away from the darkness of sleep. Despite his healing factor being in operation, Arthur's body ached with pain and stiffness, he tightened his face as he exhaled his first breath, grunting from the pain.  
He heard someone move from around him, however, he was too tired to be concerned over who it was.

All Arthur could remember were those vibrant blue eyes… the eyes that narrowed with anger as the wolves powerful claws dug into Arthur's middle…

"Ah-"Arthur grunted as his eyes opened, only to return to the real world, and see another pair of blue eyes staring down at him. However, these eyes were filled with thought, rather than anger, they belonged to a blonde man that Arthur had never seen before, however as soon as Arthur's senses kicked in, he knew exactly what the man was. "Witch."

 _"_ _Bat,"_ the witch responded, revealing a French accent, "You're lucky that your healing factor is so efficient."

"Where am I? What the hell did you do?" Arthur spat as he attempted to rise, only to feel the skin on his chest and stomach tighten, however Arthur also found that his wrists were restrained and strapped down to the wooden table, rendering him immobile. "What did you do to me? Where's Alfred?"

"Shh…" the Frenchman hissed as he ran his hand down Arthur's chest, inspecting the delicate stitching that lined his middle, "don't tug your stitches. Alfred is fine, he's downstairs."

"What? Who are you?" Arthur asked.

"Francis," Francis replied as he reached towards his table, looking at the selection of tools that he had set up, consisting to knives and scissors, "I need to remove your stitches before you do anything stupid."

"What's happened?" Arthur asked as his eyes narrowed, watching the witch suspiciously. Arthur couldn't explain why, but the sight of the witch sent a shiver down his spine: something did not feel right about this witch, but then again, Arthur never trusted witches to begin with.

"Alfred brought you to us, before we stitched you back together…" Francis explained as he turned to face Arthur, holding a pair of rusty scissors and a scalpel.

Arthur grimaced, however he chose to not ask what Alfred had to give up in order to get a witches' help…  
Seeing this, Francis smiled before bending forward and hovering over Arthur.

"Hold still, I'm going to remove your stitches," Francis muttered.  
Arthur closed his eyes and sighed, feeling the Frenchman's warm hands run along his cold skin, Arthur hated this, and he hated not knowing where Alfred was or what was happening to him. Arthur couldn't help but worry, and Francis' sly smile did not help to ease his anxiety.

"How bad was I?" Arthur asked, trying his best to kill the silence.

"Verge of death," Francis answered, "took hours of operation, four witches and a lot of magic stitches. Those werewolves' ruined you. One of the worst injuries I have ever seen, and I was an apprentice during the French Revolution…"

"You're that old?" Arthur asked.

"I take it that you're ancient yourself?" Francis asked.

"Yes, my first meal was a Roundhead solider," Arthur chuckled.

"How interesting, we both grew up in times of war and chaos," Francis chuckled as he began to cut apart Arthur's stitches, beginning at the base of the Englishman's naval. "I never thought that I could relate to a vampire…"

"Same here…" Arthur muttered, "Is Alfred ok?"

"He is safe," Francis explained, "he escaped from the wolves relatively unharmed."

"Thank god…" Arthur sighed, however he could not shake away the pit of anxiety that boiled in his stomach as he pondered over what Alfred could have possibly offered to the witch in exchange for his services. However by the time Arthur could feel Francis' hands run along his ribs, Arthur could no longer contain his curiosity, "what did Alfred have to agree to, to get you to help me?"

"He's going to help Yao and I take care of the werewolves…" Francis explained, "We're tired of them bossing us around and Alfred wanted us to heal you; so we figured that we could help each other out."

"Oh…" Arthur murmured, supposing that the deal wasn't as bad as he assumed… perhaps he should reconsider his attitude towards witches in general.

However, Arthur could not shake away the feeling that there was something that the French witch was not telling him.


	11. Chapter 11

Alfred could feel their eyes on him… He could feel the weight of the werewolves narrow eyes weigh him down as he stood by the window, knowing that they were watching him from the darkness and safety of central park.

"We don't have much time left, soon the sun will rise and we will be out of time," Francis explained, "Yao and I have decided that he and I shall handle Gilbert. You are to take care of Ludwig."

"Werewolves are pack hunters, they are stronger in numbers," Yao added, "so be sure to keep them apart, and whatever you do: do not let him howl, we don't want to fight the entire pack."

"Is there anything else that I need to know?" Alfred asked, "Is there anything I can use to increase my chances?"

"Well," Francis muttered as he crossed his arms over his chest, "there is something that I have been working on. Mathieu, get the sword."

"Sword?' Alfred asked as he watched Matthew rise from his seat on the couch and run back upstairs.

"I have spent a lot of time working on this, so don't you dare break it," Francis spat, "But I suppose this would be the perfect opportunity to test it."

Within a couple of moments, Matthew had returned carrying a long and silver sword, holding it with a thick woollen glove that glowed with violet magic.  
Immediately, Alfred recoiled at the presence of silver, hating the idea of touching such a metal, knowing of its acidity properties to creatures like himself.

"I understand what you're doing," Alfred spat, "But I can't touch silver either…"

"That's why you're going to hold it with the gloves, so it doesn't touch you," Francis pointed out as he took the long sword from Matthew hands and pointed the long blade towards the vampire, making his skin crawl, "you can handle it, no?"

"Y-yeah," Alfred replied as he accepted the gloves that Matthew handed him, "when are we going to do this?"

"Do you feel ready, have you had enough blood-tea?" Yao asked.

"I feel fine…" Alfred replied, "I just want to get this over with…"  
Alfred knew that if he did this quickly, then it will be over… He asked if he could see Arthur one more time, however, Francis advised against it, and so the American had no choice but to comply; despite how much it pained him.

As soon as the door opened to Francis' house, Alfred remembered his orders as he dashed out of the safety of the house, braced for battle. He sped across the road and into the darkness of the park, where the overwhelming scent of werewolves hit his nostrils. He immediately stopped as Yao and Francis joined him, wearing their dark cloaks, making them nearly invisible in the darkness.

"Are you done hiding?" A deep voice asked in a prominent German accent.

"Ready to pay for what you did?" Another voice asked, coming from behind the trio.  
As Alfred's eyes focussed into night-vision, he finally saw the wolves who had caused him so much trouble in their human forms.  
Immediately he noticed the bright blue glow of the blonde man before him, recognising him instantly as the wolf he was after: Ludwig.  
Alfred glanced behind him to see the werewolf's brother, and was surprised to see the man's piercing red eyes was accompanied with dull grey hair, almost the polar opposite of his younger brother.  
However there was one thing that the brothers had in common: the look of rage in their eyes, they were twitching to fight and take Alfred down… And Alfred was ready to give them the fight of their lives…

However, Alfred could not linger on petty talk; the wounds in his heart were still fresh: as he stared into Ludwig's eyes he remembered the damage that they had done to Arthur, and how much he has had to sacrifice in order to save him. This werewolf was the embodiment of Alfred's grief and anger, and without a second thought: he charged.

"Alfred…" Arthur groaned, pulling against the restraints that kept him fastened to the table. Arthur grunted, knowing that if he was at his strongest: these pathetic leather restraints would be the equivalent of breaking a twig for him.  
The longer Arthur laid exposed and in pain, the more he came to realise that something was wrong; Francis had left him saying that Alfred will be able to see him soon—but that was nearly three hours ago. Arthur had grown impatient, and panicked.  
Arthur figured that Alfred and the witches must have been fighting the wolves… Arthur could not help but worry at the idea of Alfred fighting alongside witches; however he supposed that Alfred would have some kind of protection: as long as he was not fighting alone, Arthur would be content. But yet, despite these thoughts, Arthur still felt the sickening pain of anxiety writhing within his stomach.  
Arthur groaned in pain as he attempted to break free again, only for the pain to pin him back down, as he fell, he caught a glimpse of the horrific scar that lined his entire torso. Arthur grimaced, imagining the horror of Alfred's face when he realised what had happened… Arthur wanted to see Alfred, no, he _needed_ to see him.

Arthur's eyes darted to the door as he heard the doorknob wobble, and the old wooden door opened, and a tall blonde figure walked in. At first Arthur thought that he was Francis, until he realised that the young man did not have a witch's aura.  
 _An apprentice._

"How are you feeling?" The Canadian asked, finally showing Arthur his face, making the vampire frown with realisation.

"You…" Arthur muttered.

"Yeah, hello neighbour…" Matthew chuckled as he carried some folded grey cloth towards Arthur's table, "aren't you glad that you didn't kill me now?"

"Heh…" Arthur chuckled, able to admit when he had been played like an instrument, "I am, actually… I'd hate to know what your master would have done to me."

"This cloth is going to help you heal faster, so hold still, ok?" Matthew explained as he unfolded the blanket.  
Arthur knew that this was his only chance, if he could hold eye contact with the apprentice long enough, he will have him trapped in his mental grip: and he can finally get out and find out what's going on.  
Perhaps he could even have a little snack…

Arthur grunted in pain and tightened his face, startling the Canadian, "I think something's wrong… did you put anything in my eyes?"

"N-no," Matthew muttered, however even with his eyes closed: Arthur could still see the Canadians anxiety. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

Arthur had to hold in his enjoyment, loving the fact that he had managed to trick the Frenchman's apprentice so easily: internally mocking the witches teaching skills. "I don't know, it hurts to keep them open."

"Did this just start now?" Matthew asked.

"Is that blanket covered in dust?" Arthur asked, tugging at his restraints and shaking his head, as though he was desperate to scratch his eyes.

"Y-yes…." Matthew gasped, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get it into your eyes!"

"It's ok, chap," Arthur muttered, being sure to make the Canadian believe that he was kind, earning his trust and building his web of deceit, "just, help…"

Matthew took the bait easily and leaned into Arthur, hovering his face over the Brits, Arthur instantly opened his eyes and activated his hypnotic powers; trapping the young apprentice in his gaze. Instantly Matthew was trapped, unable to move as his muscles tensed, realising what was going on. Arthur chuckled as the Canadian's shocked expression froze on his face.  
Arthur narrowed his eyes, determined to get into business.  
"Free me. And get me that shirt."

Matthew hesitantly moved, trying one last time to fight against the control that Arthur had over him, until his face suddenly went blank as he finally lost all control to Arthur… He stood up straight and with the same blank expression, he released Arthur's restraints and helped him sit up. As Arthur sat on the table, with his wounds now covered by the dark fabric of a black t-shirt, he watched Matthew stand before him, like an empty vessel that awaited his orders.  
"Where is Alfred?"

"Central park, fighting the wolves," Matthew replied, his voice sounding as empty and emotionless as his eyes.

"What was the agreement that convinced the witches to help me?" Arthur asked.

Without skipping a beat, Matthew told him, "Alfred helps them defeat the wolves."  
Arthur felt that same sickening anxiety in his stomach that he felt as the Frenchman was removing his stitches: there is something more.

"Is he going to be ok?" Arthur asked.

"There is a lot of doubt as to whether Alfred is going to survive. Another deal was made: if Alfred survives the battle with the werewolves, he is to be a slave for Yao and Francis. But if he dies: we witches are not allowed to harm you," Matthew explained.  
 _How… dare… they…._

"How is this fight being conducted?" Arthur spat, digging his nails into the wood of the table.

"Yao and Francis are to fight Gilbert, whereas Alfred takes on Ludwig, alone," Matthew explained.

Arthur's eyes widened with shock, disgusted at the idea of Alfred fighting a werewolf alone: considering what one had managed to do to him… "No…"  
Arthur nearly ran into Matthew as he stubbled off of the table, desperate to leave so he could help Alfred. But… he used Matthew's shoulders to support himself as he felt his knees wobble and his throat burn with hunger… he had never felt so weak and starved… Arthur glanced up at the Canadian, staring at the soft and healthy skin on Matthew's neck. Giving into his hunger, Arthur lunged forward and tackled the Canadian to the floor, sinking his fangs into his victim's neck.

It was as though an animal had been awakened within Arthur, driving him to feast like a wild beast, coating his jaw and neck in the blood that he had missed. Arthur no longer cared about maintaining his mental grip on Matthew, eventually releasing his hypnotism… Matthew gasped and struggled as he slowly came to realise what was happening to him, and how quickly he was slipping into the darkness.

"Ngh…." Matthew gasped as he tried to move, but Arthur only pinned him down and continued his meal, feeling the Canadian's blood convert into pure energy: bringing the vampire back to life.

Within moments, Matthew had lost his battle and fell silent and still, indicating to Arthur that he had succeeded. Despite his victim being dead, Arthur continued to drink, desperate to earn back as much strength as he could, no longer caring about consequence and risk, he needed to be there to drag Alfred out of that battle and away from the witches: away from everything…  
Arthur drank until he could not drink anymore, Matthew's once pure and vibrant skin had become pale and cold, reeking of death. Arthur gasped as he sat up and released a deep breath, feeling the Canadian's blood restore his strength.

"A-h!" a voice gasped, snatching Arthur's attention just in time for the Brit's blackened eyes to see a figure with dark hair run away from the door. Arthur instantly let his instincts take over, pouncing off of the Canadians corpse and bolting out of the room, where he saw the figure running down the staircase. Arthur chuckled as he leapt over the railing and fell to the lower level, beating the apprentice down the stairs. Before the apprentice could even speak, Arthur slammed him against the wall and sank his teeth into his shoulder. Arthur did not even care about preventing the apprentices screaming and begging, somewhat entertained by the idea of the witches returning to save their apprentices: perhaps they'd bring Alfred with them. If they are going to play with Alfred's life: Arthur is going to do the same to their apprentices.

Eventually Arthur released the lifeless corpse of the poor apprentice, letting him fall to the stairs, Arthur chuckled as he licked the dripping crimson blood off of his fingers, gaining whatever energy he could from his meals. His primal hunger was finally satisfied and his eyes returned to normal, and his fangs retracted.

"Now…" Arthur murmured as he casually began to walk down the stairs, determined to get to the front door, "Time to teach those witches and wolves a lesson…"


	12. Chapter 12

Without a second thought, Alfred lunged forward at Ludwig, swinging his sword in any direction he could. Sensing the presence of silver, Ludwig backed away and seemed to hesitate, but hadn't yet taken up his werewolf form, however he finally made the decision to turn back and run, with Alfred chasing behind him, growling like a beast.  
At the same time, Francis and Yao sprang into action, focussing their attentions on Gilbert; with both themselves and Alfred being determined to separate the brothers.

Gilbert's eyes widened when he realised what was happening, but before he could chase after Ludwig and Alfred, he realised that he was being cornered by the witches.

"LUD—"  
Gilbert was cut off when a ball of violent fire collided with his stomach, throwing him metres back and into the thick trunk of a tree. Gilbert fell to the ground and wheezed in pain and panic, as he noticed the witches surrounding him; he had to act now otherwise he and Ludwig were going to lose this battle.

Gilbert knew that the witches had weaknesses, he had exploited them in the past, however, those weaknesses could only be used when the witches fought alone… and now the tables had been dramatically turned.  
Gilbert glanced around and was disappointed to see that the witches apprentices were not present, for he knew that if he could get his teeth near either Matthew or Leon, the witch would have no choice but to surrender: the apprentice is the most valuable thing in the witches life, the risk of losing one is enough to drive a witch to a shameful surrender.  
That was why he didn't kill Matthew when he had the chance earlier that night: he had hoped to take Matthew and use him as a tool to threaten Francis into backing down from helping the vampires; however Alfred had destroyed any possibility of that plan being put into action.

"Lucky for us, we got the easy one," Francis chuckled as his hands ignited with powerful violet flames, and Yao stood near him, watching Gilbert like a hawk: waiting for his chance to strike Gilbert down if he tried again to run after Ludwig.

"Heh, I'll show you easy: I will make you both regret fighting against us," Gilbert hissed before he sprung off of the ground, shaking himself into his werewolf form, which stood as tall as a horse before the two witches.  
Normally, this sight would have terrified Francis and Yao into submission, however, they knew that if they worked together and if Ludwig stayed away: they could easily take Gilbert down, for good.

The dark wolf growled and displayed his teeth and Francis begun the attack, launching an assault of violet flames, aiming his arm and shooting the flames out of his hand like a flame-thrower.  
Whilst Yao dashed to get behind the wolf, using his magic to generate his staff, of which he used to smack the wolf on the side, sending him flying through Francis' flames before smacking against another tree, snapping the thick trunk in half, and sending the top half of the large tree crashing to the ground.

Through the darkness, Alfred could see the wolf running, and Alfred's hunger for blood only became worse, he pictured himself getting revenge for what Ludwig had done to Arthur, and it pushed him to pursue the hunt.  
Alfred felt that the heavy sword was weighing him down, however, it was the weapon that seemed to give him the upper hand over Ludwig: Ludwig would not be able to stand being near silver… and Alfred knew that if he could stab him once with it, the fight will be decided. However, Alfred knew that he had to be careful, if he accidentally stabbed himself with his own sword: the tables will be turned against him.  
At least Arthur will be safe if he dies…

Ludwig suddenly dashed around a tree and circled it as Alfred ran past, and now the wolf was running behind Alfred, and before the vampire could react, Ludwig pounced onto Alfred's back, digging his claws into the vampires shoulders, and sending the sword flying before them as they began to wrestle on the ground, Alfred's bloody wound on his back staining the ground and Ludwig's paws.

Arthur dashed out of the house, leaving the bloody scene behind, laughing darkly at the mess he had made, and knowing that it will invoke a powerful reaction from the witches.  
As he knows that there is no greater pain or shame for a witch, than losing an apprentice through death, especially to a creature like Arthur. Witches are supposed to protect their apprentices like a bear protects her cubs, and thinking that Arthur wasn't too large of a threat for the apprentices to handle is a mistake that will haunt Francis and Yao for the rest of their lives.  
It's the perfect punishment for lying to Arthur like that, for thinking of him like a fool…

Arthur dashed into the park, feeing the blood of the apprentices supply him with a powerful energy, making Arthur feel as though he had never been hurt in the first place. He could smell Alfred and knew that he was in the park, however, the scents of witches and werewolves made Alfred's location harder to pinpoint.

Quickly the light of violet fire caught his eye, and the internal begging of his curiosity coaxed him into investigating. With inhuman speed, Arthur dashed towards the light, before screeching to a halt at the sight before him.

The once powerful wolf with red eyes was limping, defeated as he desperately focussed on staying alive, rather than fighting back. Both Francis' and Yao's hands were ignited with purple flames, they laughed as they taunted the werewolf, whose jaw was too damaged and bleeding for him to even howl. They had pushed him so far down, it was almost hard to believe how powerful that werewolf once was, only to be so defeated by a single change of circumstances.

It was Francis who noticed Arthur first, his eyebrows knotted with confusion as his eyes took in everything, before his mouth slightly opened as he took in a sharp breath at the realisation.  
Arthur looked down at his shirt, to see that it was still stained with blood around the collar. As well as that, Arthur's chin and neck were still covered by a coat of drying blood. Francis' eyes widened with horror of the realisation as Arthur began to chuckle, finding the development amusing, as though he was saying to the witch, _'ha-ha, I killed your apprentice. You were wrong about me.'_

"No…" Francis gasped as Arthur paced backwards, before dashing, escaping the witches' sight.

"CHECK ON THEM!" Yao panicked, _"I'll finish him off!"_

"Right!" Francis snapped as he began his ran back to his house, horrified by the possibility of what could have happened to his precious apprentice.  
Francis was already becoming consumed with rage and anxiety, knowing that something terrible has happened to his Mathieu, something that he should have been there to protect him from.  
If Alfred survives his battle with Ludwig: nothing will stop Francis from being allowed to rip Arthur to shreds! _He will rest in pieces_ when Francis is done with him, and will be sent to the hell where he came from.

Alfred growled as he kicked the wolf off of him, sending him flying into a tree. Alfred gasped as he saw that his kick had little impact on the powerful werewolf, as it came charging back at him as Alfred rose to his feet. Alfred hadn't even had time to find the sword before he found his shoulder in the grip of the werewolf's powerful teeth, and he was shaken like a rag-doll.

Alfred could feel himself starting to slip, his strength fading as he felt the werewolf push his body closer and closer to the edge of its physical capabilities.  
Alfred was tackled to the ground, as he gasped in fear as he felt the werewolves' relentless attack damage his body. Alfred tried his best to fight back, however, the magical gloves shielded his claws, and his head was too far away from the werewolf to get a good bite.

However, as Alfred titled his head back, he saw the familiar glint of silver in the moonlight, with his free hand he desperately reached, trying his best to aim for the sword.

Alfred was determined to not give up, he was not going to die here as he had already decided his fate: he was going to survive and live out his promise with the witches, and Arthur would be there waiting for him when he was set free… they'd be together again and continue to see the world and let no other supernatural force stand in their way…

Alfred delivered one final kick, throwing Ludwig off of him, and taking a chunk of Alfred's shoulder with him, leaving a devastating wound on the vampires shoulder, however, he did not let that hold him back. Ignoring the pain, Alfred rose and ran back, snatching the sword off of the ground as he heard Ludwig charge at him like a bull, going in for the kill-bite.  
Alfred lifted the sword as he felt Ludwig pounce on his back, Alfred knew now that this was the end…

He supposed that he must have been wrong about his fate…  
But at least Arthur was going to be safe…

"ALFRED!" Alfred heard a familiar voice scream as he aligned the sword with his stomach, before driving it through with a powerful pull.

The sword slid through Alfred easier than he expected, and the pain was immediate, it burned Alfred's body as it passed through, and only intensified the longer it stayed it. However, Alfred knew that he had done the right thing, as he had to push harder as the tip of the sword exited Alfred's body, and entered Ludwig's.

Ludwig whimpered as the sword's power impacted him more than Alfred, and he began to whimper and whine as he pushed himself off of Alfred, but the damage had already been done. Ludwig limped away, desperate to find some help, however, quickly the pain became too much and he collapsed to the ground and his body began to convulse violently.

"Ah-"Alfred gasped as he forced the sword out and fell forward, landing into a pair of arms.

"ALFRED! ALFRED WHY?!" the voice panicked as Alfred closed his eyes, happy to be listening to Arthur's voice, the pain taking away his comprehension of the severity of the situation.

Arthur began to panic as Alfred's weight forced him to the ground, and the peaceful look on his face as it was coated in blood implied the worst. Arthur hissed and wheezed as his hands travelled around Alfred's face as he hopelessly searched for the answers, something to bring Alfred back.

"Don't do this to me, you can't do this to me," Arthur whimpered, as he watched his future slide through his fingers like water. "Don't go…"  
Arthur didn't know what to do, he panicked as he desperately patted Alfred's face, borderline slapping it: anything to keep Alfred awake, to give him any chance of survival. Arthur had even lifted Alfred's shoulders, feeling the dead weight hold him down. However, Arthur's spirits only died along with Alfred when he saw the severity of the wound on Alfred's stomach. The poison of the sword had done its work, and the wound festered with black marks, seemingly leaving cracks on Alfred's skin. Arthur crumbled as he fell to his knees, and his arms went limp, leaving Alfred's upper half to fall onto Arthur's lap.  
"ALFRED!" Arthur screamed, finding himself unable to do anything else, anything that didn't make the wound worse. Arthur's smug demeanour crumbled into nothing, leaving him distraught and lost.

However, the noise of footsteps brought him back to reality.  
He could smell them, the witches, they were coming closer to inspect the scene, and see if Alfred had done his job.  
He had… and now Arthur was going to be alone for all eternity because of their deal.

Arthur lifted his head to look at the witches, to see them staring at him with infuriated eyes, and Arthur knew that they knew what he had done, Francis' hands were covered in blood, most likely the blood of his precious apprentice.

However, Arthur couldn't help but feel his inner monster beg for revenge, beg for blood… the blood of those who took his love away.

And Arthur knew that because of that very deal, he had the upper hand. Those witches could not hurt him…  
However, that dreaded deal said nothing about Arthur not hurting them.

Arthur opened his mouth and flashed his fangs as his eyes were suddenly coated with a layer of darkness, making the Brit appear terrifying as he rose to his feet and faced the witches, a supernatural hunger for revenge and violence raging within him like an out of control bonfire, that could only be put out with blood.

Arthur growled like an animal as his hands tensed, revealing his claws, _"run…"_


End file.
